Being Jacksons Girl
by Tate Icasa
Summary: My name is Annie, Annie Light. I'm sixteen years old and in tenth grade. This is the story of how I moved to Malibu, fumbled my way through everything, and still managed to become Jackson's Girl. Which I'm told isn't an honor, but I say it is. [JacksonOC]
1. Of Myself and My Stupidity

Hannah Montana

Being Jacksons Girl

Author's Note/Explaination: This fic takes place shortly after Melissa breaks up with Jackson. Yes, its Jackson-centric, anyone but me notice there are a strange lack of those? Also, Aneon Light is a different Aneon from the one alluded to many times in my profile. Just thought I'd mention that.

_X x X_

**::Aneon's POV::  
**My name is Aneon Light, and I just moved to Malibu.

Yes, I said my name is Aneon. As in, my mother read the words 'A Neon' without the space so often she decided it would make a nice name. Go figure. Please, call me Annie.

Anyway, I just moved to Malibu from a little town in New York. In fact, its so small and unimportant that I'm sure you've never heard of it and I'm not going to bother telling you its name. Despite the fact that it would have been simpler to say the name that to explain why I'm _not_ going to say the name.

I'm a bit slow in that respect. I tend to babble, have you noticed? Of course you have.

Well, I'm sixteen and in Tenth Grade. Now you're saying, _Ok, so she must be smart_, but I'm not. Really. Well, maybe a bit smart _mouthed_ (Ask my dad, he'll tell you), but certainly not smart. I can't do math in my head after simle addition, proper english bugs the heck out of me, and I can't spell 'photosynthesis' to save my life, let alone tell you what it is. (What do you mean I just spelled it? I did not!)

I'm forever doing stupid things like forgetting my key inside the apartment whenever I go anywhere, which really kinda defeats the purpose of _having_ a key, and paying for things but walking out of the store before I get them. Now you're asking, _Why is she telling us this?_ Well, the answer is that it has _everything_ to do with the story I'm about to tell you.

This is the story of how I moved to Malibu, fumbled my way through everything, and still managed to become Jackson's Girl. Which I'm told isn't an honor, but I say it is. So does he.

Anyhow, it all started with me doing one of those incredibly stupid things again.

You see, my dad works three jobs and is hardly ever home, so it wasn't really surprising that he wasn't there when I woke up on my first day of school. I actually managed to get dressed and eat before leaving the house. I forgot my key, but that isn't the incredibly stupid part. Well, it is, but not the part I'm referring to.

No, the part I'm referring to is that I'd told my dad I would walk to school. Despite the fact that I had no clue where it was. The day before I'd bought one of those stupid little travel maps so I could find my way, completely forgetting (until it was rather important) that I couldn't _read_ a map worth crap.

So I ended up wandering around the streets looking for some clue as to how to get there, trying to follow a map that I was probably holding wrong anyway. Which was how I met Jackson.


	2. Of Poles and Being Hit On

Hannah Montana

Being Jacksons Girl

_X x X_

**::Aneon's POV::**

Right. So, here I am, walking down the street, holding the map in front of me and looking at it like it's insane. Or, rather, like I was insane for looking at it. Which, since I _still_ couldn't tell if it was right side up or not, I probably was. I was even muttering to myself about how retarded I was.

In fact, I was so intent on my own stupidity and glaring at the worthless (cost me 20$, stupid overpriced. . .) map, that I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. And walked into a sign.

Yes, a sign. Like, a stop sign, rail-road crossing sign, you know, the kind with the thin but hard metal pole. That I walked into.

"Stupid!" I yelled at the sign, kicking it as hard as I could. Which didn't do any more than hurt my foot, as it was, as I said before, a hard metal pole. So, what ended up happening was: I let go of the map to clutch my foot. I yelled 'Stupider' at myself, incredibly loudly. I realized that the map was starting to blow away. I let go of my foot and lunged at it. I tripped over my injured foot, hit my head on the sign, and landed on my butt. Hard.

Not fun.

Then, I decided that it was all the sign's fault and punched it, not realizing that it wouldn't do my knuckles any better than it would do my foot. Honestly. I was getting ready to strangle the pole (yes, strangle) when I heard a car door slam.

_Oh, great,_ I thought,_ Just what I need. An audience._

"Are you alright?"

I look up at a boy about my age, and suddenly feel incredibly foolish.

"Um. . ." I begin. "Yeah, sure, fine. Just fine. Dandy even."

He looks at me oddly.

"I tripped." I say.

"I saw."

Great. Just great. I really needed this kinda cute guy to see me make a fool of myself. By attacking a pole. And losing.

It takes me a minute to realize that he's offering me a hand up, but I do eventually get it and let him drag me to my feet.

"Um, can you tell me which way to Seaview High School?" I ask, blushing. "I'm new."

"Sure! Why don't you just hop in," He motions to the car, "And I'll drive you." He says slightly cockily, and, oh god, is he hitting on me? I decide I don't mind if he is, and gratefully accept the ride to the school.

It isn't far, and in fact, if I'd kept wandering I probably would have found it sooner or later.

Anyhow, the guy turns out to by kinda sweet too, and I decide that I really _don't_ mind if he hits on me. Which I think he does, a few times.

When we get to the school he opens the door for me and calls me 'm'lady', which makes me blush, and grin.

"Oh!" He says suddenly. "I almost forgot. My name's Jackson."

_Hmm,_ I think, _Cute name too._

"I'm Annie." I say.

"Well, Annie, maybe I'll see you around." He says with a wink. Well, now I'm almost positive he's hitting on me. And I _really_ don't mind.

"Maybe." I echo at his retreating back, and I can't help myself from glancing ever so briefly at his butt. "Nice." I whisper, then blush. Actually, I hope he _is_ hitting on me, this could be fun.


	3. Of Passing Notes and Locked Doors

Hannah Montana

Being Jackson's Girl

Authors Note: Beware the changing tenses. I seem to have trouble sticking to just one. Thought I'd warn you, and now you have no excuse to yell at me for it. Hopefully, the change is between paragraphs, not in the middle of sentances, but I'm not promising anything. I'm letting Annie do the typing. (Note to Self: _Never_ agree to that again.)

_X x X_

**::Aneon's POV::**

As it turns out, Jackson is in three of my classes. Guess which ones.

Math, English and Science. My three worst subjects. Great. Cute guy gets to watch me be stupid.

It couldn't have been Social Studies, the only class I actually understand. No, it has to be those specific three.

Welcome to my life.

Anyhow. I fumble through the day, trying not to look too stupid. I make friends with a girl named Melissa at lunch. She seems nice enough. But I think she thinks I'm ditzy. I don't mind.

I was hoping that Jackson would come talk to me at lunch, but I don't think he and Melissa get along very well, since he saw her and moved to the far side of the cafeteria. But I guess it's okay, because we both have English class at the end of the day. And Melissa doesn't.

We don't do anything much in English class, just taking notes. Probably the easiest thing we'll do all year, and the only thing I'll do right.

So, there are five minutes left in the class when a triangle shaped paper lands in the middle of my desk. I jump, and a couple of my classmates look up. It takes me a while to figure out how to open the folded paper. (Honestly, how can anyone fold that?)

_Annie, do want a ride home? -Jackson-_

I think a minute before writing: _You don't mind? -Annie-_ And figuring out how to refold the paper. I toss it back toward him and it bounces off the top of his head. I never said I had good aim.

A few minutes later, it hands on my desk again.

_'Course not. I wouldn't have offered if I minded. -Jackson-_

Actually, that should have been fairly obvious. I mentioned being a bit slow?

_Alright then, sure. -Annie-_

I didn't get the note back, but he met me at the door on the way out of the building. Neither of us said a word on the way to the car.

"So, Annie, where do you live?" He asks.

I give him the address, which I won't put here because I don't want any stalkers, and he nods and we lapse back into silence.

"Why'd you offer to drive me home?" I asked after a while. He blushed. I had never seen a guy blush before, and I didn't even here his answer. "I'm sorry, what?" I asked stupidly.

He laughed. "I said 'because I wanted to'."

"Oh. That's not an answer, you know." I got no reply. "Fine, don't tell me."

Soon enough, we arrive at my apartment. "Thanks for the ride." I say, hopping out of the car. I fumble through my pockets for about a minute looking for the key before I realize I left it inside. I slam my head against the door. "Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!" I yell, enunciating each word with a slam.

"What's stupid?" I hear behind me. He hasn't left yet.

"I, er, kinda forgot the key." I say. "Now I have to wait for my dad to get home and let me in."

"Oh." He says, suddenly shy. "Well, you could come over to my house until then. You know, cuz its cold out and all."

I smile. "Thanks! Just let me scrawl out a note so he knows where I am." I pull out a pen and write on the door.

_Locked self out. Gone to a friends. Call: _

I asked Jackson for his phone number and he gave it to me easily, though I'm not sure what _his_ intentions were. I hid a grin as I thought that last bit and scrawled the number on the door. Dad was going to laugh when he saw how I'd left his message. He'd be angry about it, but he'd laugh.

I jumped back into the car happily.


	4. Of Introductions and Homework

Hannah Montana

Being Jacksons Girl

_X x X_

Holy, Jackson's house was big. Of course, maybe that's just my opinion, since I've only ever lived in small apartments. I think Jackson was amused by the way I stared at the building before going in. And by the way I gaped at every other room I saw.

We sat down at the kitchen table, at least, I think it was the kitchen table, and I dropped my things beside it.

"So, Jackson," I heard seconds later, "Who's your new friend?"

Jackson jumps. "Geez, Mile, don't sneak up on me like that!" He says. "Annie, this is my sister Miley. Miley, this is Annie, she's new."

"And you already brought her home?" Miley shakes her head. "I didn't know you were _that_ desperate."

"Its not like that!" He protests, and I have to stiffle a laugh.

Miley puts her hands on her hips.

"Its not!"

"I was locked out of my apartment." I explain to her. "Jackson offered to let me stay here so I didn't have to wait outside for hours until my father got home."

"Thats very gentleman-like." Miley observes suspicously. "I wouldn't trust it." She leaves the room.

Jackson sighs. "I'm going to pretend she didn't say that. And that you didn't hear it."

"Hear what?" I ask innocently, leaning over to pull a textbook out of my bag. "Ick, homework."

He agrees with that sentiment very quickly.

I think its a bit sad that we had to call Miley in for help with our homework when she's two years younger, don't you?

We were just finishing the last of it (And our third ice cream sundae) when my father pulled in the driveway, honking his horn. Wow, that last sentace sounds dirty.

"Do you want a ride to school tomorrow?" He asks me on my way out the door and I pause.

"Sure." I say. "I'll be outside by 7:15."

He smiles a bit as I disappear out the door.

I was right. This is fun.


	5. Of Smooties and Car Rides

Hannah Montana

Being Jacksons Girl

_X x X_

The next few days went surprisingly well. Every morning Jackson would pick me up and drive me to school, and every day he would drive me back. If I'd forgotten my key we'd both go over to his house and work on our homework. It was a nice, comfortable pattern. And then the weekend came.

I'm not opposed to weekends. Not at all. Especially this one.

It started Saterday, when I decided to walk down to the beach for the afternoon and happened to notice Jackson working at the smoothie bar, and apparently being harrassed by a young child. I watched for a few minutes, until he noticed me and mouthed 'help' in my direction. I grinned and decided to step in.

So, here was what I did.

I walked up to the smoothie bar and ordered a smoothie.

Not much of a distraction, I know, but as long as he was working the kid left him alone. I'd noticed that from my prior observing.

"I don't recognize you." The little boy said rudely.

"Rico, Annie, Annie, Rico." Jackson said quickly, the leaned over to mock whisper in the boys ear. "She's _so_ far out of your league."

"Yours too." The kid shot back with a triumphant grin.

At that point I became very upset with the kid, Rico, and I dumped my smoothie over his head. "You are a very mean little boy." I informed him, before turning back to Jackson. "Um, I kinda lost my smoothie, could I have another?" I asked innocently.

Obviously trying not to laugh (and failing) Jackson took my money and turned to make me another smooth.

At which point I did one of those incredibly stupid things, and left before I got my smoothie. Left completely, in fact, and started to go home.

What completely surprised me what when, half an hour later I was wander around aimlessly (I was bored at home. . .and locked out), when Jackson's car pulled up beside me and he held a smoothie out the window.

"I believe you paid for this."

I blinked in shock and then smiled. "Why, yes, I believe you're right. Shouldn't you be back at the. . ."

"Nah. My shift just ended." He said. "What are you doing wander around the streets?"

"Um, I'm bored and locked out."

He laughed. "Hop in, I'll drive you someplace."

"Where?" I asked, already in the process of hopping into the vehicle.

"Nowhere in particular."

I liked that idea. Riding in a car is fun, especially with the right company. Besides, I had a fairly good idea where this was going to go, and I liked it. A lot. More than a lot. I'm not gonna continue that line of thought or I won't be able to tell the story.

Anyhow. It didn't take him long to start flirting with me, I think its like, second nature to him or something. And, to be honest, I flirted back. It was fun. Very fun. Ack, I said I'd stop that line of thought! Die, though, die! I'm ok now.

Then, he started a very obviously fake yawn.

"Jackson." Said in a semi-bored voice. "If you want to put your arm around me, just _do_ _it_ already."

That got me a shocked look. "Really?"

"Yes, really." I said.

So he did.


	6. Of Best Friend and Funny Faces

Hannah Montana

Being Jacksons Girl

_X x X_

Of course, I never said that being Jackson's girl was easy. Sometimes, its just plain annoying, and sometimes there are. . .erm, problems. Yeah, that's what I'll call that. . .

So, list of problems: Melissa, Rico, Miley and Jackson's dad. And my dad too.

No, no, not all in one day! Geez, I don't think I'd have survived that. Not for lack of trying, of course, but I'd die of asphyxiation. (Cool word, huh? It means not breathing.)

It was Monday that the first problem appeared. Nice, huh? Monday, that hated 'back to school' day, that I was actually looking forward too just so I could see Jackson again. Amazing.

I wasn't really happy for the beginning of the day, though, since we had tests in both of the classes I had with Jackson. Honestly, what kind of she-devil-teacher decides to have a test monday morning? Don't answer that.

Right then, so, where was I?

Oh, Lunch. Lunch isn't a class. In fact, I'm sure that if given the choice, the school would rather _not_ feed us. But its the law, so 'Ha!' to them.

Anyway. Jackson and I had been officially dating for the last two days, and I couldn't wait to tell Melissa, who I considered to be my best friend, all about it. I was also sort of dreading it, because I was pretty sure she didn't like him much.

Um, right. Apparently, I was slightly wrong. Oh, who am I kidding, I was horribly, _horribly_ wrong.

She hates him. Despises him. Loathes him with all her sould. Um, wow, I'm depressing myself here. Gonna stop now.

Well, if you can't guess, Melissa went ballistic on me. I mean, totally, totally ballistic. As in "OMG! You _can't_ be dating _him!_", march me over to force me to break up with him, ballistic _ballistic_. Er, did I say 'force me to break up with him'? Yeah. Not happening.

I may be a klutz and a ditz, but no one can force me to do anything I don't want to. Strong willed, I call it. Stubborn, my dad says. Whatever you call it, I most certainly was. So when she said "You are going to break up with him this _instant_," I said, "Not on your life."

She looked at me like I was crazy.

"Why _not_? He's such a - so -" She seemed at a loss for words and I had to laugh.

"He's sweet." I said to her. "And he makes me feel special."

"Don't believe it." She warns me. "You should have seen what he did to this poor little kid."

"You mean Rico?" I snort when she nods. "Poor little kid my rear! The kid's evil!"

She looked at me like I was crazier than she already thought I was. Then she shook her head.

"Its on your head, then." But she didn't say it in a nice way.

I shook _my_ head and went to sit with Jackson. Which was nice, because the look on Melissa's face when I ditched her for him completely made up for the way she'd looked at me.


	7. Of Little Children and Bribery

Hannah Montana

Being Jacksons Girl

_X x X_

But Melissa's anger was only the first of our problems. The second came in a much smaller, if more volatile, package. That's right, I'm talking about the devil-child, Rico.

Now, really, if it hadn't been me or someone I'd known, I would have laughed at his harrassment. From an outside perspective, it would have been really funny. Of course, the way we got rid of him was really funny too, because, apparently, no one had told him that Jackson and I were dating.

Which is just the way I like it. I can't help it, I love surprising people. Especially to see the looks on their faces. And the look on Rico's face was perfect, let me tell you. The _absolutely perfect_ mixture of surprise, disgust and jealousy. I would have laughed if I hadn't been very busy. Um. . .yeah.

Anyway, since Jackson was working, I was just hanging around on the beach, waiting for his shift to end so he could drive me home. Just like always.

Then, I heard, "Hey! Jackson, isn't that the girl who poured smoothie on me?"

I turned around, my mouth twitching as I tried not to grin.

"Oh, hey Jackson. Rico." I nodded.

"Why don't you come over here and I'll give you a free smoothie?" Jackson offered.

"Oh, just give up already." Rico muttered, just loudly enough to be heard. "We both know you don't have a chance."

I shrugged and walked around so I was leaning on the counter, but not sitting in one of the chairs. "I think he has plenty chance." I informed him, leaning up to give Jackson a quick kiss. One thing for sure, that boy can kiss. I'm amazed at how well, because he claims I'm the first girl to like him enough to go for it. I've decided I'm not going to ponder the implications of that statement.

When we break apart, Rico is still staring at us with that silly, perfect look on his face, and I almost laugh.

"So," I say casually, as if nothing had happened. "Five dollars for you not to get us in trouble for that?"

He blinks before realizing what I've said.

"Make it ten and you have a deal." He says. Well, he has quick recovery skills. Or maybe he just wants to get that image out of his mind. Whatever the reason, I take the opportunity and give him the money. "Pleasure doing business with you."

_Actually, kid, the pleasure was all mine, seriously,_ I think. But I decide not to say it out loud. Hey, I _can_ be tactful if I want to be, see?


	8. Of Annoyances and Skateboards

Hannah Montana

Being Jacksons Girl

Authors Note: I am a firm believer in the "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all," Idea. It is a very nice, very good idea, and if everyone followed it, no one would ever be offended. Now, I'm saying this because I recently recieved a review telling me in no uncertain terms that a) My story sucked, b) My character was an immature bitch, c) My story was completely unbelievable, and d) I am a bad writer. I consider reviews like this to be flames. So saying, I do not take offense at flames in general. However, I do consider them to be incedibly rude, and the author who sent it and their review have now been added to my personal Hall of Flame. Now, I will agree that this probably isn't my best story. No, I know that it isn't my best story. However, there are several other authors on this site who have read it and liked it, and several people irl who enjoy it as well. Therefore I can say with reasonable proof that it does not suck. The proper, polite thing the author of this review could have done is say that they did not like it. To say that it sucks is a subjective term, not an objective term, and this person has no right to tell me what people other than them should think of it. Also, I do not believe that my character is an immature bitch. Now, I may be slightly biased in this respect, but I do think that I can tell when my character is horrible. Annie _is_ immature, I'll give the author this point, because I created her to be immature. However, Jackson himself is just as immature. Any honest fan of the show can tell you this. He himself dumped things onto Rico's head in the episode "You're so vain, you probably think this zit is about you." I could list off several other places where he has done things just as immature to Rico as what Annie did. Therefore, I cannot agree with the fact that it is an unbelievable plot. Granted, it I'm not saying that it _is_ a believable plot, or that it stays perfectly canon. However, I think I'm justified in saying that it most certainly _could_ happen, even if it is improbable. I also cannot see where being a little mean to a kid as mean as Rico gives anyone the right to call her a bitch. She is generally a nice person who has odd ways of standing up to the people who attempt to hurt the people she cares about. But I don't take offense at those points. Not real, honest offense like I felt when I read the fourth point. This reviewer has no right to tell me that I have horrible writing skills, unless they have read every single thing that I have ever written and still believed it. At that point I would take the words without blinking. Well, maybe I'd blink, but I wouldn't take offense, because it isn't the words that offend me. It is the assumption that they can judge me based off of one piece of writing. I have written for multiple fandoms, and written original stories, and teachers and reviewers constantly tell me that I am a good writer. That being said, I will point out that this long rant is _not_ a petty revenge, or the beginning of a flame war, nor do I care if the reviewer in question ever reads it or acknowledges its presense. It is simply an attempt to show that I renounce the claims of the review in question. If you're still reading this authors note, thank you for listening/reading my ranting. I apologize for wasting your time with an authors note at least as long as the last two chapters, and I would appreciate it if you could give me your comments on this subject. Again, thank you for your time. Now, onto the actual story. (Which is probably shorter than this authors note.)

_X x X_

Now, when I say that Miley was a problem I don't mean that she was a _problem_, just a minor annoyance. Erm, don't let her hear me referring to her as minor, kay?

Its just that she finds the worst possible moments to show up, usually dragging one of her friends along with her. For example, tuesday afternoon.

I went over to Jackson's house because I had accidentally on purpose locked my key inside my apartment. Surprising, isn't it? So, we were sitting at the kitchen table, like we usually do, eating our ice cream sundaes and working on our homework. What? You don't believe we were actually doing homework?

Good for you. We were _attempting_ to do homework. So we didn't get very far, bit whoop. Is it our fault we decided we liked flirting and fooling around more than trying to figure out trigonometry? Which, of course, meant that neither of us had paid any attention in class and neither of us wanted to admit it. That was fine with us. We were enjoying ourselves. We were having fun.

Miley, not so much.

It is _not_ our fault that she walked in on us while we were in the middle of kissing. Dragging her little blond skater friend with her. Actually, it was her friend that we noticed first, because she dropped the skateboard she was carrying when she saw us, and I stepped on it. Don't ask how, I couldn't tell you.

I then slid on it, hit my arm on the table, and in my attempt to stay standing, dragged Jackson down on top of me.

Miley looked down at us and raised her eyebrow.

"I thought it wasn't like that." She said.

"It wasn't." Jackson said, helping me up quickly. "That was then and this is now."

I nodded and handed the offending skateboard back to its proper owner, who apologized to me a few times before being dragged out of the room.

"C'mon Lilly, Jackson and his _girlfriend_ have already claimed this room."

I laughed at that.

But why did she say girlfriend like it was an offensive word. Still, she was never more than an annoyance. Which I've already said.

Now, it was slightly more of a problem when Jackson's father walked in on us, the next day. But that's another story.


	9. Of Fathers and Questions

Hannah Montana

Being Jacksons Girl

_X x X_

This story, in fact. Wednsday afternoon Jackson had to work, so we ended up at the beach. Did you know that Melissa and Rico were both staring at us with open animosity, but neither spoke to us? Wait, of course you do, I just told you! Silly me.

So we were quite a bit later getting to Jackson's house than we had been the day before. Miley and her friends were already monopolizing the kitchen, so we had to settle for doing our homework on the couch. Shyeah, we did homework? Are you kidding? There was no way we were going to end up doing homework.

So, we weren't really doing much but sitting around, flirting, when Mr. Stewart came home. He took one look at us and started to clap. Needless to say, I was a little disturbed.

"Miley, lookit this. Jackson's finally got a girl!" He called.

"I know, daddy!" Miley called back. "Lilly and I walked in on them yesterday."

At which point Mr. Stewart came over, sat down on the other couch and started the most disturbing line of questioning on me I've ever gotten from a guys father. Actually, it was such a disturbing line of questioning that I eventually fled the room, making an excuse of being thirsty to duck behind Miley and her friends so I couldn't hear him.

Eventually, Mr. Stewart stopped questioning Jackson and he joined me for a bit before my father picked me up. Or tried to anyway, because Mr. Stewart had to go out and have a long talk with him about what a nice girl his sons girlfriend was.

Except that I hadn't told my dad yet. Fortunately, he wasn't mad at me. Just a bit worried about the boy. Which meant another several minutes of uncomfortable questioning before I was actually able to leave, blushing to the roots of my hair.


	10. Of Plots and Endings

Hannah Montana

Being Jacksons Girl

Authors Note: This is the last chapter. I may or may not make a sequel about Melissa and Rico's numerous attempts. But I have to get this out of the way so I can start my next Hannah fic "The Magicians Playground." It's been fun to write.

_X x X_

It was on Thursday that Melissa cornered me and gave me a huge notebook filled with every single thing Jackson had done wrong on a date, written by every girl who'd ever dated him. "For your own good." She said.

I went home and read it. It didn't really faze me, he'd told me most of it already.

Then I got out my own notebook, one notably smaller than the one she'd given me, and filled it in with every good thing he'd done on a date with me.

"Nobody's perfect," I said to Melissa as I handed her both notebooks, and I watched her face fall as she read through the one I'd filled out.

Friday, at the beach, Rico followed me around yelling "break up with him," over and over and over until I was ready to scream. He even wrote it in the same when I wasn't looking. I trampled it until it couldn't be read, then wrote the word "No" over it.

"But I can't pick on him if he's got a girlfriend!" Rico protested.

"Good." Said.

Since then, Melissa and Rico have done everything in their power to convince us to break up. They haven't succeeded yet. It isn't always easy being Jacksons girl, they've seen to that, but it is fun. He has his share of faults, and I have mine.

But if we do break up, it will be our choice, and not because of something they did. We've already agreed to that.


End file.
